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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29539182">The Black Dog Motel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katiebug445/pseuds/Katiebug445'>Katiebug445</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Horror, M/M, more additional tags to come later, motel fic with a twist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:02:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,027</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29539182</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katiebug445/pseuds/Katiebug445</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On a forgotten stretch of highway sits an old motel with a single vacancy and a dedicated staff that's dying to make your stay unforgettable...</p><p>On a trip out to his mother's to help her move, Jean ends up getting lost on a strange stretch of highway where everything starts to go wrong. A busted headlight, a failing GPS, and low fuel begin to spell disaster for him, until luckily, he spots a sign for a motel that might be able to help him. </p><p>Three days later and not a word from his husband, Armin begins to fear the worst. What happened to Jean? Why hasn't he contacted anyone? And most importantly, how could the same exact fate befall their friend Reiner so soon after? </p><p>Teaming up with Bertholdt, the two decide to go on a search to find their men since the police don't seem to be of much help, but in no way are prepared for the horrors that await them...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein, Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Welcome</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <a href="https://dappermouth.tumblr.com/post/175157559571">Based on this tumblr post</a>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The drive from Jean and Armin’s home to his mother’s was close to 13 hours one way, and one he made many times. This one was important, though, because he, Armin, and Armin’s mother, Avery, had finally convinced her to move back home and it was Jean’s job to head out and help her get everything into boxes. In three days, his friend Reiner would be driving out to actually get it all moved. Jean desperately wanted Armin to come along, but it was impossible for him to get that much time off right then, so, he was making the journey by himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t mind, though, having the time to let loose a little and listen to his music and sing along. Armin always ended up falling asleep on long car rides because they forced him to relax. Jean always ended up turning the radio down so he could rest, knowing he barely slept at all at home. Now, though, he let himself have fun and enjoy it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time he hit the halfway point, it was pitch black, the only light coming from the small sliver of the moon and his own headlights. Jean checked the time and quickly calculated how long it would take to get there. If he kept going, it would be close to 2 AM before he pulled in the driveway. He knew it would be selfish to get there so late, but he didn’t have enough money to afford a hotel, and he would lose too much time sleeping. So, instead, Jean pulled over and called his mom, telling her to put the spare key out in her mailbox, and he’d be there as soon as possible. She told him she didn’t mind waiting up, but the thought made him feel terrible, so he insisted again that he could let himself in. Finally, he got her to agree, and got back on the road. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Jean drove on, the darker things seemed to get. The small sliver of moon he’d had before was no longer visible, and Jean looked up expecting to see clouds blocking the light, but to his shock, the night was as clear as it was when the sun started to go down. He could just see the glow around the edges of the moon, but it was completely dark now, no light coming from it at all. That couldn’t be right, though, could it? The moon didn’t change like that, did it? God, he wished even more that Armin was there with him, to tell him one way or another if he was going crazy, or calm his fears a bit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean turned back to the road, and could almost swear he saw the lights from his headlights getting dimmer and dimmer, but he figured his eyes were just playing tricks on him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re getting too paranoid, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he told himself, trying to shake it all off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still, though, the flickering didn’t stop, and eventually, one of them ended up going completely dark, and didn’t come back on again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” Jean swore, pulling over again and turning the lights on in the car so he could see. Out of caution, he always kept extra bulbs and fuses in the car, just in case something like this very thing would happen while he or Armin was out. He popped open the glovebox and rummaged around, but found nothing of what he needed. “What the fuck?” He muttered, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning in so he could get a better look. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean emptied the entire compartment out and sorted through all of his things, but there was nothing there that would help him. Nervously, he shoved everything back in and shut the latch, making a note to ask Armin if one of them accidentally took it all out when he got to his mom’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As long as the other one holds out ‘til I get to Mom’s, and I don’t run into trouble, I’ll be okay. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jean thought, trying to soothe himself a bit. He just hoped he didn’t run into any cops on the rest of his trip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean drove down the dark highway for awhile longer, and the further he went, the more and more something seemed really odd. The hills off in the distance didn’t seem to be getting any closer to him, though he knew he’d been heading their way for a good while now. There were other landmarks, too, off in the distance, along with a few telephone poles standing along the sides of the road, and none of them seemed to be getting closer, either. He had the sudden feeling of being on a treadmill, moving but not making any progress in any way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept on for a bit longer, keeping his eyes on the hills, and when another fifteen minutes went by and they </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>were far off in the distance, the whole thing really started to freak him out. He pulled off again and grabbed his phone, and pulled up his GPS app. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scanned around the area where it said he was, and looked around for something, anything, even slightly familiar, and felt his stomach drop when he realized what was going on. He was lost. Very, very lost. Jean zoomed out and nervously looked around to see how far off course he was, and felt panic beginning to set in when he saw it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The exit he should have taken, the stretch of highway he needed to be on, was 25 miles north. Somehow, he’d gotten so mixed up he’d gone the exact opposite direction of where he needed to be, having to have had to go out of his way to get there, and even more panic began settling in. He’d taken this drive a lot over the last few years, every other Thanksgiving and Christmas and even some of his birthdays, he knew the route like the back of his hand, he could practically drive there in his sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So how had this happened? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean looked back at the screen, and realized then that the stretch of highway he was on had no name and wasn’t fully mapped out. He zoomed in and realized the exact spot where he was actually was technically non-existent, according to that. “What the fuck?” He whispered again, hoping that maybe it was just a glitch and the app would finish up with the road in a few moments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A beep got his attention and Jean looked back at the screen, groaning out loud when he read over the message that popped up on his screen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>GPS signal lost. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck!” Jean swore, tapping around and trying desperately to get it off the screen, but it wouldn’t go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>25 miles south… If he turned around now and sped all the way back to where he’d missed the turnoff… maybe he could still make it at least by 3. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean put the car in reverse and spun around, his tires squealing a bit on the blacktop as he took off, and could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>the speed as he hurried away. He kept his GPS open, hoping that eventually it would kick in and he’d be back on the right track, but much to his horror, despite the fact that he was going almost 90, it wasn’t moving at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Much to his panic, as soon as he started back down the road, his other light began to flicker on and off, and before too long, Jean was plunged into a near complete dark, without the aid of his headlights or the moon to guide him. He made himself slow down enough that he wouldn’t end up running off the road as he made his escape, and let himself look up just in case he was wrong and the moon was still there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t, and for the first time, he noticed there were no visible stars, either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What the fuck was going on? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean heard a ding coming from the dash and he looked down, wondering how his night could actually get any worse. The low fuel light had come on, and alerted him that he had just over 10 miles to go before he would end up stranded in the middle of the highway on a section of road that didn’t appear on a map. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something stranger happened then. Jean caught movement from the corner of his eye, and his gaze flickered up to his phone. He blinked, beyond surprised, and felt a sense of relief washing over him upon seeing the tiny dot on the screen that represented him beginning to </span>
  <em>
    <span>move. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It would be pushing his arrival time back even more, but in that moment he didn’t care. Things were going to be fine now, he assured himself, driving for a bit longer before he saw light flickering out in front of him. His headlights were back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean whooped in relief, falling back heavy against his seat and feeling like things were actually going to be okay now. “Thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>god,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he breathed, wondering what in the world had just happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hopefully, Jean looked up at the sky again, expecting to see the sliver of moonlight back, but there was nothing except the black, open expanse of sky that lacked even one star. It was eerie, being out there with no light at all. That was one of the reasons he always loved the drive at night, because he and Armin could pull off to the side of the road for a little while and his husband could name off constellations and names of specific stars that held some importance in mythology. Maybe he could explain what the fuck was going on up there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It appeared out of nowhere. Jean was tormenting himself about missing Armin and had just talked himself into calling him, when the neon sign lit up the night like stadium lights. Shocked, he glanced up at it, eyes wide as he read the words once, twice, and a third time, just to make sure he was seeing it right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Black Dog Motel</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span><br/>
</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Exit 73</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Vacancy</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A motel? Jean had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure </span>
  </em>
  <span>there wasn’t any sign there on his way through, otherwise he would have known he wasn’t in the right place right away. Still, though, he couldn’t hazard a guess as to how something like that would just appear out of nowhere; that kind of stuff wasn’t real - Armin always assured him of that. There was always, </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>a logical explanation for everything that happened, even the disappearing moon and stars. He wondered if Armin was still awake back home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean debated on calling for a bit longer, until the fuel light dinged again and alerted him that he had just under 5 miles left until he broke down. The last thing he wanted was to be stranded out here, and have to walk back all the way for help, so he stopped again for a moment and checked the map. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Exit 73 was coming up, though he couldn’t recall ever hearing about it before then. It didn’t look right, being out in the middle of nowhere, with no other cars around, to have a ramp leading into town. But, with another glance down to his gas gage, he knew he couldn’t be picky about it, and pushed on. Maybe, if nothing else, someone could give him a ride to a station so he could fuel up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once his mind had been made up, Jean found himself slowing down again as a suffocating fatigue settled over him, making it almost impossible to keep his head up and his eyes open. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes, the action only serving to make them heavier rather than wake him up. After a little while longer, he found himself falling asleep at the wheel after his car jerked to the side and he ended up bumping into the side wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaken, Jean ran a hand through his hair and looked around, realizing how close he was to getting off. His hands trembled and his breathing was unsteady, and he knew right then that he needed to stop. He needed to find this motel, get some sleep, and ask about fuel in the morning. While he was stopped, he called his mother and let her know what happened without going into extreme detail about it, then decided to call home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin answered on the third ring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he mumbled sleepily, and Jean knew he’d woken him up. “Everything okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything’s fine,” Jean insisted, his eyes on the exit sign as he spoke. “I’m not gonna make it to Mom’s tonight, though. I’m… getting really tired and I need to sleep. I saw a sign for this motel called the black dog, and I’m think I’m gonna try to find it and sleep in the car for a little bit.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead and get a room.” Armin told him, not wanting him to risk something happening while he slept. “I’ll… see if Mom will let me borrow the money to cover it. It’ll be fine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Jean asked, already beginning to stress about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure. Get some sleep in a real bed.” Armin yawned, and Jean heard sheets rustling a little as he settled back in. “Call me in the morning, okay? Let me know you’re safe?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Jean breathed, smiling a little and wishing that he was back home. “Hey, uh, Armin… that kind of reminds me… Do you know if the moon and stars can just… disappear out of nowhere?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like… I was driving out here and everything just… disappeared. There’s nothing up in the sky. I-I could see them earlier but… everything’s gone now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No…” Armin thought, worry creeping into his tone. “No, that can’t happen… Please get some sleep, okay? You’re concerning me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah…” Jean breathed, yawning again. “I think I need to. I love you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you more.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Impossible.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not hardly.” Armin chuckled, and Jean could </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear </span>
  </em>
  <span>the smile on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call you in the morning. I might even have to insist on video calling. I already miss your face.” Jean smiled back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That sounds good.” Armin yawned, half asleep himself. “Night, Jean.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Night.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They hung up, then, and Jean sat up in his seat to force himself to wake up enough that he could at least find the building without running his car off the road. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The motel seemed, much like the sign back on the highway, to appear out of nowhere. A blue and red neon sign illuminated the dark, the image of a large, black dog turning its head flickering back and forth and casting the same colors across his face. Jean was so exhausted that he barely managed to get parked and stumble up to the front office. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small, dark eyed and dark haired woman stood behind the desk, lazily looking at her computer, and didn’t look away from the screen until Jean cleared his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She jumped, looking up at him in fright, before quickly getting a grip on herself and putting on a smile. “Sorry. Can I help you, sir?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just need a room for the night.” Jean answered, digging his wallet out of his back pocket and pulling his card and ID out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Long night?” She guessed, giving him a once over and seeing how disheveled he looked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A bit. Ended up taking the wrong exit and got lost.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’d be surprised how often we hear that.” The woman nodded and clicked around on the computer for a second, and started to type around. The smooth elevator style music that crackled from the speakers wasn’t doing much to help his exhaustion, and Jean felt himself starting to drift again as he waited to find out if he could stay there or not. He stumbled a little on his feet, woozy and knowing as soon as he sat down, he would pass out, and tapped his foot a little while he waited on her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just glad I saw your sign when I did.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A smile tugged at her lips when she heard that, and finally finished up. “You’re in luck. We have one room open.” She said, taking the cards when Jean set them up on the counter for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Big weekend?” He asked, taking another look around the place. It was a small, slightly rundown office, but not in a way that put him off. Just dated, with yellowing wallpaper and furniture that looked like it had been there since the 50s. But, he guessed, beggars couldn’t be choosers when getting stranded out on the road, and stifled a yawn. “By any chance… there wouldn’t happen to be a gas station or anything around here would there? I almost ran out trying to find this place.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ve got a big army reunion, yeah.” The woman answered, then got up to get him the key to his room. “And… not that I know of. I can look around for you in the morning if you’d like? If there isn’t, I’ll be more than happy to drive you out to the one I go to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would be great.” Jean sighed in relief, thinking that sounded wonderful. “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman handed him the key and his cards back, and offered him a flirty little smile. “Welcome to the Black Dog Motel, Mr. Arlert-Kirstein.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Next Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so deep. He groaned when he came to and pulled the blankets up over his head for a few moments, not wanting to start the long day he knew was waiting for him. He lay there, nestled in the warmth, until he started missing Armin too much to relax. With a sigh, he sat up and ran his hand back through his hair to push it out of his face, and glanced over at the clock on the bedside table to check the time. 10:00. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wait, 10:00?!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean scrambled to find his phone, knowing that Armin was probably worried because he hadn’t called, and tried to unlock it. Nothing. He tried again, and again, but the screen stayed black. Maybe he turned it off. Jean hit the power button and held it down, hoping that was all, but when the screen remained the same once again. Jean had sworn when he got in last night it had almost a full battery - one that Armin had just replaced two months ago for him - and he knew it shouldn’t have died that fast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scrambled to think of what he’d been doing when he got in last night, if he left an app open or let videos play on it all night that would drain it, but he couldn’t remember doing it. Weird. “Just use the motel phone, then, I guess.” He muttered to himself, tossing his phone on the bed and reaching out for the landline, but his hand only closed over air. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Confused, Jean turned to look, and in the spot where the phone should have been was just empty space. He bent down to look at the wall behind the table in hopes of finding a phonejack, but nothing was there, either. With a huff, he looked around for his pants and pulled them back on, grabbing his dead phone and going out to his car so he could get his charger. The room had an outlet, at least. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He plugged it in and set his phone on the table, waiting for it to charge and beginning to feel a bit anxious over the fact that he still hadn’t gotten ahold of anyone. He knew his mother was a worrier, just like Armin, and both of them worried at the same time was enough to make him feel like shit. He tapped his fingers nervously on his legs, checking over every few seconds and waiting for the logo to pop up, but it was taking a long time and that was only making things worse. So, while he waited, he figured he might as well go ask around and see if anyone could tell him about a gas station. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean grabbed his jacket and slipped it on as he walked outside, heading right for the main office so he could talk to the woman who’d been there the night before, hoping she’d still be willing to take him to get gas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stopped dead in his tracks when he got his first good look around. There wasn’t a car in sight. The entire lot and the road beside the motel were completely empty, every door shut up tight and not even any sign of a cleaner making sure things were tidy for when the guests came back. As he stood there in the quiet, listening for anything to tell him he wasn’t completely alone there, a wave of anxiety washed over him when he realized that he couldn’t even hear cars getting on and off the highway. There was nothing. No sound at all except his own nervous breathing, and took careful cautious steps towards the main office. Maybe whoever was working could explain why things were so silent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened the door and immediately started to scan around for the woman from the night before, but an older, rough looking man was sitting there instead, staring blankly at the screen and looking like he didn’t want to be bothered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, Jean walked up, already dreading having to go over everything again, but just hoped he would be as friendly and offer to drive him to get his gas. He stood there for a moment, waiting for the man to acknowledge him, and when he didn’t, Jean put his hand on the desk and cleared his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, the man turned and looked up at him like he wanted nothing more than to ring his neck. “Can I help you, sir?” He asked with a sneer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I…” Jean started, the words dying on his throat for a second as he stared the man in the face. His eyes… From a sideways glance, they looked normal, but when he was face to face with him, Jean noticed that something was </span>
  <em>
    <span>off. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The sockets were just a bit too big, the skin around them pulled tight, and the eyes themselves… No matter how much he looked, Jean couldn’t find an iris anywhere. They were just a bit too large on his face, looking more alien than human, and the pupils… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first thing Jean thought of was when Armin had gotten his last eye test and they dilated his eyes to the point he could barely see the blue. He’d had to drive him home because they said it was too dangerous for him to do it himself, and they’d gently teased each other back and forth on the way back home. This man reminded him of that day, except somehow worse. Much, much worse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just, uh, hoping you could tell me if there’s a gas station around here?” Jean said, choking the words out with a tremor in his voice. The hair on the back of his neck stood up the longer he looked, and something in him told him he needed to get out as soon as possible. “My car ran out last night and I really need to get back on the road…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man rolled his eyes and finally broke away from Jean’s gaze, causing him to let out a small sigh of relief. “No.” Was all he got for an answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, how far </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>the nearest one, then?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A bitter, wheezy laugh escaped the man’s mouth, and he looked at Jean like he was a complete idiot for asking something so stupid. “There isn’t one unless you wanna walk all day one way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is there anyone here that could drive me? I’ll pay…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man said nothing else on the subject, just turned back to his computer and pretended Jean wasn’t there. Getting irritated, he smacked his hand down on the desk again and shot him a stern look. “Can you at </span>
  <em>
    <span>least </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell me where a phone is around here? My room doesn’t have one.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man just focused harder on the screen, paying Jean no more mind at all, and Jean knew he wasn’t getting anything more from him. With a scoff, he took off back for his room, hoping that his phone was charged up enough that he could call from it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To his surprise, the logo popped up when he tried it again, and when it unlocked, he felt the stress from his conversation with the strange employee melting away. He immediately punched in Armin’s number - the only one he knew by heart - and felt himself actually start to relax when he heard it start to ring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then a beep that signaled the call was dropped. Jean pulled his phone away from his ear and looked, and only then realized he had no signal in his room. Frustrated, he unplugged it and got to his feet, slipping outside the door so he could try again. He checked first to see if he could, and his frustration only grew when it still said those two little words he dreaded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No service. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean walked around the front of the motel, holding his phone up and trying his best to ping off some nearby tower, but no matter where he stood or how high he reached, he was in a complete deadzone. “Fuck!” He hissed, aimlessly walking around a bit more before finally giving up and going to stand by his car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What could he do? Obviously staying here and trying to call out from his personal phone was a no go, as was asking for a landline to use. He had no gas, no communication, and as the seconds ticked by, he felt that same anxiousness filling his heart that had been there when the moon disappeared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The moon… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean looked up, walking out to the end of the lot, and from where he stood, he could just see the top of the exit ramp he’d taken when he got here. Maybe if he could walk up there, he could get a signal again… Maybe he could call Armin and beg him to come out and get him and just make the rest of the trip with him, job be damned. He hurried back to his room and grabbed his key, locking the door behind him before taking off down the road, checking his phone every few seconds as he did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He didn’t worry about walking right down the middle of the street, the world around him so silent he knew if a car was coming, he’d hear it a mile off. He walked fast, wanting to get up to the ramp as fast as possible so he could hear Armin’s voice again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s got to be worried by now. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jean thought, all but running now and still checking desperately now and then in hopes of seeing the bars pop up in the corner of his phone. As he went on, he noticed the sky above him growing darker, and he worried that it was going to rain soon. He pushed himself even faster, not too keen on getting caught in a storm, but those fears were soon laid to rest and replaced with even bigger ones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sky was a mix of purples and blues the further he got from the motel, resembling dusk rather than rain. Jean looked up, not understanding what he was seeing or how it was even possible, but even further ahead, the sky was black as midnight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How was that possible? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With another glance down at his phone to check for his signal, he was surprised to find it read 10:30 am. Stopping, he looked back to the motel and found the morning sun still shining bright overhead like nothing was out of place, and it only unnerved him that much more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he started off again, he kept his pace slow, the closer he got to the highway the more pressure closed in around him, like a belt or a rubber band pulled tight around the crown of his head, and the air became thick and heavy. Jean pushed on, able to see the exit sign hanging high above him just a little bit further away, and he made the transition from dusk to dark almost instantly, like stepping through a doorway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pressure lifted immediately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The air thinned enough that he could breathe, and it felt like taking the first step outside in spring after being cooped up all winter. Curious now, Jean checked his phone. 12:00 am. And much to his surprise, he had two bars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had a signal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Relief flooded through him as he hurriedly punched in Armin’s number, his hand shaking the tiniest bit as he held it to his ear, and barely gave him a second to pick up before he had to speak. “Armin!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--ean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was heavy static coming from the other end, but it didn’t matter, not when he could hear his favorite sound in the world. “Armin,” he said again, waiting for a second for his reply, but it didn’t come. Not directly, anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--ea-- wh-- are --ou?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice was distorted and Jean knew he didn’t have long before he lost him again, so he took a breath and hurriedly caught him up on what happened. “Armin, I’m still at the motel. Everything is weird. I - I don’t know what’s going on, and I’m stranded. I need help. Bad.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--ease--- ome--- orried--- miss you---please---”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Static drowned out whatever the rest of Armin said was, and Jean began to panic, not wanting to lose him already. “Armin!” He called. “Armin!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The same beep as before sounded in Jean’s ear and he knew it was too late. The call had been dropped and the line went dead, and numbly, he dropped his hand and was surprised to find himself tearing up. Had Armin even heard him? Did he know what was going on? He hoped. He was terrified of spending much longer in this place, not knowing what was going on or if he was in danger. As the seconds ticked by, he found himself wishing more and more that he was back home, held in Armin’s arms and feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In that moment, that was all he wanted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean stood there for another few moments, trying once more to call back, but the bars had disappeared, and so had his last chance of getting home, of getting to Armin, and it scared him to death. Looking up at the sky, he was even more surprised to find that the moon was back in place, where it belonged, but even that was little comfort. He gave himself a moment to really feel his emotions, and hugged his arms tight around his middle, then took back off for the motel. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Missing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Armin barely slept. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only thing he could stand to do was pace back and forth all night while he waited and hoped that Jean would call and tell him everything was okay, and things had just been really busy at his mother’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hated when Jean left so late to go out there, washing that he would just wait until morning and have all day to get there, but he insisted that it was fine, and there would be less traffic at night, so he’d get there that much faster. Armin wasn’t so sure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he left, he made Jean kiss him once, twice, and a third time, making him </span>
  <em>
    <span>promise </span>
  </em>
  <span>that he would let him know he was alright at the first chance he got. Jean said he would, and nervously, Armin let him go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Jean called him and said he was going to stop and sleep had been the last time anyone had heard from him. When he didn’t contact him the next morning, Armin knew something wasn’t right. Jean </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>called or at the very least texted when he said he would, and the fact that nothing had been said… It worried him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the next morning went on and he still hadn’t heard, he made up his mind that he was going to the police station and reporting him missing when his shift ended for the day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When there was still no word by the time he was leaving the hospital, he headed straight to the police and insisted that he speak to someone as soon as possible. Armin was left sitting there, listening to a loud, old clock ticking away in the corner while the officer at the desk answered calls and spoke to others came in looking for help. He tapped his fingers nervously on his leg, which eventually evolved into him having to bounce that leg due to his growing anxiety, and eventually, he got up, intending to go to the desk and ask again to speak to someone, when the door opened, and an older, burly officer motioned for him to follow him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin was led to an office near the back of the station, and told to sit down in a rickety old chair and explain what happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My husband is missing.” Armin said simply, not taking his eyes off the man as he spoke. “He - he was on his way to his mother’s last night, and he got lost and ended up staying at this motel in the middle of nowhere called The Black Dog. I looked it up this morning, there’s no record of it anywhere online, and he said he would call, but he hasn’t, and something is </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The words came out in an unsteady rush, but he couldn’t stop himself. Armin blinked the tears out of his eyes when he finished, and looked up at the man pleadingly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you stop and think that maybe he doesn’t have service where he is?” The officer asked, giving him an almost bored look. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jean never stays quiet this long.” Armin insisted, his eyes wide, scared, not knowing what to do. “Even when we argue, he always finds a way to call me if he leaves for awhile. And he promised me he would call this morning. I - I know he has to be missing a full twenty-four hours before anything can be done, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>please,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he begged, his eyes filling with tears once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Mr. Arlert, but there isn’t much we can do until the twenty-four hour mark. He most likely just forgot, or didn’t think it was that dire to get in contact right now. Or, like I said, maybe he doesn’t have a signal. I don’t know if you know this, but on some stretches of highway, there aren’t many towers. He’s probably just in a dead spot and will call when he can.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin winced at that, wanting to snap at the officer and tell him that wasn’t his full name, but he kept that comment back, knowing there were more important things at hand. Even if Jean didn’t have a signal wherever he was, the motel had to have a phone or two, didn’t it? He knew Jean wouldn’t just… not call. He knew him well enough to know that he worried too much when they were apart, always afraid of something just like this happening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They always, </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>kept each other informed periodically where they were when they were apart, just to give them both a bit of peace of mind that everything was okay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The officer sighed, knowing just from the look on his face that he wouldn’t be satisfied with just that, and leaned back in his seat, making the old wood creak loudly in the quiet room. “Look, kid, until he’s been gone a full day, there’s not anything we can do. You yourself said you knew that already. If he doesn’t show up or call by tomorrow night, then I’ll be glad to talk to you again.” He got up, then, and went to the door, and Armin knew the conversation was almost over. “Until then, just try to relax and trust your friend is fine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin felt himself bristle at those words and wheeled back on the man, glaring up at him. “He’s my </span>
  <em>
    <span>husband, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and by tomorrow night, it could be too late. He could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a little bit of a snort, the officer opened the door to his office and gestured for him to leave then. “He’s a guy, and a young one at that. I have three boys myself, and I can promise they’re forgetful and a bit careless; he’ll call. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to look into.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin was dismissed then, and the door was shut as soon as he was far enough away from it to do so. He sighed, feeling tears beginning to well up in his eyes, and stared at the officer through the glass pane on the wood for a second before turning and leaving the station. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He went home after that. The whole drive back, he told himself that things were going to be fine, that Jean was okay and this whole thing would blow over soon, but it had little effect on him. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>something was wrong, he could feel it in his core that Jean was in trouble, and no amount of soothing was taking that fear away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Armin pulled up to his house, he was glad to see that his mother’s car was parked out front and the lights were on in the house, signaling that he wouldn’t be completely on his own, at least. He parked his own car and took a moment to breathe before grabbing his bag with his scrubs in it and going into the house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did the cops say?” Avery asked immediately, looking desperately up from her book. “Are they going to help look for him?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin could only stand there clutching his bag for a moment, his hands gripping it so tight that they were beginning to hurt, and stared back with the same look in his own eyes. He shook his head and a noise he didn’t recognize as his own filled the silence between them, his heart breaking at the thought that this was it. He’d failed Jean so badly by not being able to get him help. He’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>failed. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jean was out there, right then, and something was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and nothing he could do was fixing it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Avery was up on her feet, then, pulling Armin into a hug as soon as she could, and her heart broke when she felt her son weakly hug her back. “It’ll be alright,” she whispered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s gonna die out there, isn’t he?” Armin asked, paying her words no mind as his fears overtook him. “I’ll never see him again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shh,” Avery soothed, running her hand over his hair to calm him down in the same way she did when he was little. “We’re going to find him, Armin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alive. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I promise he’s going to be okay.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do this.” Armin cried, clinging tight to his mother like a scared child. “I can’t - I’m not strong enough to do this on my own.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes you are.” Avery promised, pulling back just enough that she could see her son’s face. “You are, Armin. But you won’t have to. Jean’s alive, and we’re going to get him back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked up, his eyes wide and terrified, begging his mother to understand words he was terrified to say out loud. “I failed him. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>failed </span>
  </em>
  <span>him, Mom.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Avery felt tears rising in her own eyes hearing Armin say that, and she shook her head, brushing the tears off of his face and leading him to the couch so he could sit down. “No you didn’t. You didn’t fail anyone. We’ll go back down there tomorrow and try again, and if they still won’t listen to you, I’ll make damn sure they listen to </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words did little to help, but Armin sat with his mother until the tears finally dried up and he felt like he could move, then went off to get started on fixing something to eat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was 3:00 in the morning when he heard his phone ringing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin had somehow managed to fall asleep, and in the dark of his room, the light from his phone screen was blinding, and it took him a second to let his eyes adjust before he reached over and read the name on the screen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jean. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His breath caught in his throat and he answered it with a shaking hand, his heart racing painfully in his chest, and didn’t give the other man time to answer before speaking. “Jean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Static was the only response he got back, but if he listened close, it almost sounded like his name. “Where are you?” Still no real reply. He wasn’t even sure if Jean could hear him or not, or if it was even him on the other end, though in that moment, he chose to believe it was. “Please come home. I’m so worried, I miss you so much. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The static only got louder in his ear, and he knew he was going to lose him soon, but he tried one more time regardless. “Please come home. I love you. I love you so much.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, the call dropped, and Armin was only left with the dial tone humming at him as his phone slipped numbly from his hand, terrified out of his mind that he’d just spoken to his husband for the very last time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t sleep after that. Armin found himself pacing the room and looking now and then to his phone in hopes of it ringing or lighting up with a text, but nothing came. He knew nothing would come. Jean wasn’t coming home, and he doubted he would hear from him again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So what did that mean? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had two options: He could wait until tomorrow night and go back to the cops and beg for help, or he could take matters into his own hands and find Jean himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It only took a few seconds for Armin to make his choice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt guilty knowing he wouldn’t be going into work, but he thought that if trying to find your missing husband wasn’t a good enough excuse, then he didn’t need to go back anyway. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too understaffed without him, though. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They have Mom.” He told himself as he began looking around for what he would need. “She’s good enough to do the work of both of us.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled out his old dufflebag from the back of the closet and shoved everything he could inside, not bothering to take the extra few seconds to put it in neatly like he normally would and get on Jean about doing, too. He didn’t have time for it. He needed to get on the road. When he was finished, he checked the time, and sat down on the bed with a sigh. It was 3:00. Avery was still asleep in the guest room, and he didn’t want to worry her by waking her up right then. She needed as much rest as she could get when she had the chance to. So, reluctantly, he pulled his legs up onto the mattress with him and lay down. Armin knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, but he did his best to relax his body some until his mother woke up and he could tell her what he was going to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At 5:00, he heard her begin moving around and close the bathroom door as she got ready to get her shower, and while he waited, he got dressed and took all of his things downstairs and to the car. He made himself a cup of tea after, and choked down a few bites of toast before he felt sick and had to throw the rest out. After a bit longer, Avery came down with her hair up in a towel and her scrubs already on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Armin!” She called, a little surprised to see him up already. “What’s going on?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have to go.” Armin said quickly, hoping she would understand. “He - I got a call last night from his number, but I couldn’t hear him. Something’s wrong. I know it is, and nobody is going to help me find him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Avery’s shoulders fell when he said that, knowing that if he could just wait a few more hours, they’d go get help. The last thing she wanted was to have both Armin </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jean out there, and the thought of something happening to him made her want to tell him no. The only thing that stopped her was knowing that Armin was an adult, and if it were her, she would do the same thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m still going down to the station after work today.” She told him, hoping he would get the hint and stay behind. “One way or another, I’m getting the cops involved.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good, I could use all the help I can get.” Armin said, gulping down his tea before putting the mug in the sink. “I just… I know this isn’t right. Something happened to him and I need to find out what.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” She breathed, going up to her son and pulling him in for a hug. “Just be safe.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he finished up with saying his goodbyes and own promises to call later on, Armin took off for the car and got in, and had it in reverse to pull away when a thought hit him: Reiner and Bertholdt probably didn’t know what was going on. Checking the time, Armin pulled his phone out and dialed Bertholdt’s number, hoping that he wouldn’t wake him up if he was asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He answered on the second ring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Armin?” He asked, his voice slurring a bit from sleep. “Is everything alright? It’s really early.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jean’s missing.” Armin answered, barely giving him time to finish speaking. “I’m going to find him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold on, what do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jean’s missing? What happened?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” That was Reiner, sounding even more tired than Bertholdt. Armin could hear his friend explaining what was going on, and he impatiently tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited for Reiner to catch up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Something’s wrong.” He said after a moment. “He’s missing, I know he is.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Armin,” Reiner answered, having taken the phone from Bertholdt. “Before you do anything, come over. Tell us what happened so we can help. The door’ll be unlocked so just let yourself in. Bertl and I’ll be down in a minute.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have </span>
  <em>
    <span>time.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Armin argued, getting more and more anxious by the second. “I have to get on the road.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’ll take five minutes.” Reiner replied, and Armin could hear the door unlocking in the background. “Just tell us what happened and maybe one of us can go with you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a defeated sigh, Armin gave in and agreed, then quickly headed off for their friends’ place. He tried to tell himself that it was okay, and this wasn’t a mistake to wait the few extra minutes. The more people that could help, the better, even if it was just to get the word out. Hopefully, with enough backup, the cops would listen to Avery when she went back later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin pulled up in front of the house and took a second to check his phone, just in case, but there was nothing new. His stomach sank. He was wasting so much time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s worth it.” He breathed to himself, forcing himself out of the car rather than put it back in gear and drive off like he wanted to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>True to his word, the door was unlocked when he got up to it, and he let himself in. Armin listened for a second and he could hear them talking in the back of the house, two sets of heavy footsteps heading down the hall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Reiner said by way of greeting, already dressed and looking like he wasn’t taking no for an answer on helping out one way or another. “Start from the beginning. What happened?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin took a deep breath and looked up at his friends, feeling himself getting emotional just from the thought of it all. “He - he left for his mom’s two days ago. He called me from the road, and he was saying all this weird stuff, that the moon and stars were missing, and he asked if that could just </span>
  <em>
    <span>happen. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It can’t, and I told him that, and…” Armin trailed off, swallowing and having to take a second to compose himself before continuing. The guys were thankfully patient enough to wait, and after a few seconds, he sniffed and carried on. “He said he found a motel and was going to stop for the night. I was so worried about him, I told him to go ahead. I thought… I thought maybe he was just tired and seeing things, but I don’t know now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, back up a bit. What do you mean he was asking if the moon could disappear?” Reiner asked, completely confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Armin said, frustrated and getting more and more anxious with every word. “He just asked, I said no, and then he said he was going to go to sleep.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where was this at?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know that either. It was just somewhere along the way.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Armin,” Bertholdt spoke, his voice gentle as he tried to calm his friend down some. “Take a breath, okay? You’re getting really tense.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin inhaled through his nose, his breath unsteady as he did, and found himself balling his fists in the pockets of his coat. It reminded him of when he was anxious at home, when it was late and he couldn’t sleep, or the stress of the day really started getting to him. Jean always made him breathe with him, to look him in the eyes and hold in a breath for a few seconds. Usually, it would end with Jean squishing his cheeks and making him laugh, and he found himself missing it so much in that moment. “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be.” Reiner told him gently, offering him a brotherly smile. “But come on, man, I know you well enough to know that you probably have every step of that trip memorized by now. Think about it. What time did he leave?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A little before one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, and when did he call you that night?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eight.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner nodded, glad that he was at least able to give them that much. “Alright, so what’s the closest stop to then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin sniffed, really having to think for a second through all the panic rattling around in his head, and pushed his hand back through his hair. “There’s a gas station we usually stop at. We can usually hit it by seven-thirty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So a half hour out.” Reiner mused, folding his arms across his chest as he began to think. “What’s around there? Are there any motels or rest stops or anything?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s signs for motels at every exit.” Armin answered. “But none of them are called the black dog. I would have remembered that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could it be new?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe? But it still doesn’t make sense. Jean has never needed to stop on the trip before. He’s too stubborn to break the trip up over a couple days. And I know he wouldn’t stop that early, regardless.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner pursed his lips and tapped his fingers on his arm while he mulled it over, and his eyes flickered up to Armin after a few seconds. There was no way he was letting him go off alone, especially if there really was something weird going on. In fact, he wasn’t sure if he should let him go at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner dropped his arms, and turned to Bertholdt. “Stay with him for a minute, I’ll be right back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Reiner left, Armin looked up at Bertholdt, his stomach twisting uncomfortably at the look on his face. Bertholdt was concerned, and he hated the knowledge that he’d worried both of them so much, especially so early in the day. He had no idea why he’d really even bothered to call them in the first place; he just… wanted someone else to know, in case something happened while he was out there, just in case his mom needed support. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be alright.” Bertholdt promised, giving him a little smile. “We’re gonna find him. Have you contacted the cops yet?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I tried,” Armin said, looking back towards their room as Reiner came out carrying a dufflebag of his own. “They told me they couldn’t do anything right away.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuckin’ cops.” Reiner muttered, shouldering the bag and looking between Armin and Bertholdt. “You two keep an eye on things here, yeah? Don’t fucking let up until they agree to get involved. And let me know if you hear anything from him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Reiner, what are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Armin asked, his heart sinking when he realized what his friend planned to do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I already have the time off, and I was supposed to head up there tomorrow to help anyway, so why not go and try to find him?” Reiner shrugged. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin let out a soft, anxious noise, and shook his head. “Jean’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>husband. I should be the one out there looking for him. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner shifted, letting out a bit of a huff, and took a quick glance at Bertholdt again. “How about this: if I don’t find him by tomorrow night, you and Bert come out together, and we’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>look?” He said, trying to compromise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all, and the more stubborn part of him wanted so badly to argue until Reiner gave in, but something held him back. He knew he probably needed to be the one to talk to the cops again, to really make the case that Jean was missing, and swallowed as he gave in. “Tomorrow night. If you don’t find him by then, I’m coming to look myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Search Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They were left alone after Reiner headed out, and he and Bertholdt stood there for a second in silence, not knowing what to do or say. His friend shuffled uneasily, and Armin could tell he was nervous about him and what might happen. Guilt flooded through him as he watched the taller man, knowing it was his fault why he had to be. If he hadn’t been so desperate, he would have called Reiner right then and told him to come back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin opened his mouth to apologize, but Bertholdt cut him off. “Promise you’ll tell me when you go down to the station, yeah?” He said. “I want to be there with you guys if - if it might help…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Armin breathed, his throat tight from those words. Having Bertholdt there, knowing his friend had his back on this, made him emotional. “Promise you’ll tell me if you hear anything? It - I don’t care if it’s good or bad, I just… I really want to know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bertholdt strode over to him, pulling him in for a hug, and patted him gently on the back as he did. It broke his heart when Armin hugged back, squeezing him tight, and hid his face. “It’ll be alright.” He promised. “And I’ll let you know, but if he finds anything out, you’ll probably be the first to know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin squeezed him once more before pulling back and wiping his eyes, grateful to him for even just that. “Thank you.” He murmured. “I-I’ll let you know, alright?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bertholdt nodded at that, and patted him on the shoulder before seeing him to the door. “Don’t worry, alright? Reiner’s gonna find him and bring him home. I promise.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin choked up when Bertholdt assured him, and he could only nod before heading down to his car and climbing in, just managing to get the door shut before he broke completely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was led back to the same chair, the same office, with the same unfriendly and unhelpful officer, and it was going about as well as it had the last time. Armin sat there, picking at his hands which were sat in his lap, doing his best to be polite even though it wasn’t getting him anywhere. He’d gone over the same details again with the man, omitting that Jean had tried to call him since doing so would have only prompted him to dismiss him again, and his stomach sank when the man - whose name he learned was Jackson - got up and went to the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It sounds like he doesn’t want to come back to me.” Jackson said, lumbering over and turning the handle, and shot Armin a disgusted look when he turned back. “And honestly? Can’t say I blame him. He’s probably got a girl somewhere and used the move as an excuse to get out without breaking your, ah, lease together. We see it all the time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin balled his fists and bit down on his cheek to keep from letting it show how badly hearing that hurt. He knew Jean. He knew he wouldn’t dream of doing something like that to him, but it didn’t stop the thought from making itself at home in his mind and fill him with so much panic that he wanted to throw up. “I’m begging.” He choked, looking up at officer Jackson with a pleading look in his eyes, his voice thin with worry. “It’s been over twenty-four hours, none of us have heard anything from him. Something is </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you ever stopped to think that maybe this is why he took off?” officer Jackson said back, getting really annoyed with the nagging. “Now, Mr. Arlert, I need to get back to actually important things, so if you wouldn’t mind…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That isn’t my name and you’re going to listen to me!” Armin yelled, getting to his feet and feeling his whole body beginning to shake as he stared the man down, not used to being so firm to anyone let alone a stranger. “I get that you don’t want to help me because we’re both men. I get that, but your personal prejudice shouldn’t get in the way of your job! ‘To protect and serve’ should include </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone! </span>
  </em>
  <span>My husband is out there. He could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead </span>
  </em>
  <span>by now, and every second you’re wasting by arguing with me and brushing me off is only giving that more of a chance to happen!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walked up to the officer with tears stinging in his eyes from fury and fear, and swallowed around the lump in his throat, waiting until Jackson met his eyes before he continued. “My husband’s life is not conditional, and if you’re not going to help me despite knowing something isn’t right, then maybe you shouldn’t be an officer.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man opened the door, then, giving Armin a look of pure rage and disgust, and Armin braced himself for what was coming next. “Go.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin stayed where he was and matched the look given to him, not backing down so easily when Jean’s life was on the line, and was suddenly glad that he’d helped him become more assertive. “Not until someone helps me find my husband.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get out of my office before I charge you with contempt!” Officer Jackson shouted, grabbing him roughly by the arm and all but swinging him out the door, trying to shut it, but Armin stuck his foot in before he could. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should be ashamed to call yourself a civil servant.” He said, wincing when the door hit hard against his foot. He was surprised at himself for saying it, anger and desperation taking over almost every rational part of him, and shoved back as hard as he could. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jackson pushed his foot against Armin’s and got it out of the way of the door, slamming it shut in his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin clenched his fists and glared at the door for a second before finally giving up and walking away. Everything in him wanted to stay and fight until someone agreed to help him, but he knew it wouldn’t do Jean any good if he ended up getting arrested. He sucked in a deep breath on his way back out to the lobby, and with every step his anger began to drain faster and faster. Guilt was already getting to him as he walked away, ashamed of himself for letting things get that far. That wasn’t like him. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>say </span>
  </em>
  <span>those kinds of things. If he wasn’t so angry, he knew he would have gone back and apologized.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tears stung in his eyes by the time he saw his mother and Bertholdt sitting there, looking up at him hopefully, and the only thing he could do was shake his head no before he broke completely. His legs wobbled as he tried to hold himself up, and a choked sob escaped his mouth before they were both hugging him and promising things would be alright. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they broke apart, Avery had a look on her face that Armin had only seen a handful of times in his life, and never failed to scare the ever loving hell out of him. He watched as both of them headed back to the office, and, unable to bring himself to go back again, he opted for sitting in one of the chairs and waiting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The minutes passed slowly, and the longer he sat there by himself, the more he wished Jean were with him and none of this even had to happen. Armin pulled his phone out and checked hopelessly if Jean had contacted him again, and felt his heart sinking when he saw nothing. So, he decided to try himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It went right to voicemail and listening to Jean’s message brought another sob out of him, missing his voice and his arms and his love more than anything else. He hoped this wouldn’t be the only way he ever got to hear him again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jean,” Armin cried, holding his head in his hand while tears fell down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m doing everything I can to find you, but I keep… I keep failing. Nobody will help me, and I’m so scared that it’ll be too late by the time I can get to you. I’m so scared, Jean. I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I love you, and I’m trying everything I can. I miss you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hung up after that and hid his face in his hands, letting himself cry. He was so afraid, so terrified that it was too late, that Jean was gone and he’d wasted the only chance he would have to find him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t help that he couldn’t stop thinking about what the officer had said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Logically, Armin knew that Jean was faithful. They loved each other more than anything and they always had, and always would. He knew Jean well enough to know that he wasn’t hiding anything when he said it the morning he left. But even still… it made a worrying amount of sense. The weird story, the hasty decision to stop when he never, ever had before, the lack of communication… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What if Jean really had found someone else? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin’s hands began to shake and his breathing became shallow and rapid the longer he thought about it. What if that was it? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, god.” Armin sobbed, not knowing what to do with himself, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get that out of his head until he saw his husband again. “Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>god.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lost count of how long he sat there, but he could hear his mother yelling at Jackson and him shouting the same threats back to her that he’d said to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mrs. Arlert, I think we should go…” Bertholdt was saying, his voice calm on the surface to calm his mother down, but Armin knew his friend enough to know he was every bit as upset. The two came out a few seconds later, furious and looking every bit as angry as he felt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a no for them, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to call Marie.” Avery said once they got to the car, barely giving the boys a chance to get buckled in before taking off back for his house. “Maybe she’s had more luck there than we’ve had. What a bastard!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bertholdt looked back at Armin from the mirror in the passenger seat, feeling terrible for him and what he was going through. He knew he’d be the same way if something like that happened to Reiner, if not worse. “We’re going to figure it out.” He promised. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Armin,” Avery started, glancing back at him through the rear view mirror, “do you know the name of the county he went missing in? Maybe we should contact the police there if Marie hasn’t already.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Madison.” Armin sniffed, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear and leaning his head against the window. “They probably won’t help, either.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not everyone is like that asshole.” Bertholdt said, turning around in his seat and wondering what he could do to cheer Armin up. “I’m willing to bet they’ll be more than happy to help. A-and don’t forget: Reiner’s out there, too. I’m sure he’ll find something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Armin just nodded, just wanting to get home so he could pack up and head out himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The drive was much longer, and much more boring than he was expecting. By noon, Reiner was already wanting to get out of the car and stretch his long, aching legs, but he knew that would only set him back even more, so he kept at it despite the cramp that was begging to really get to him. Reiner sighed, sitting up a bit in his seat, and could have kicked himself for not asking Bertholdt to come with him so he had someone to keep him from going crazy in the solitude. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he should have asked Armin to come. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scrubbed his hand over his face and rolled the windows down, turning the radio up and hoping it would distract him enough so he wouldn’t be focused on the negatives, but it all did little to help. He glanced at his phone, at the GPS app that was pulled up, and huffed when he saw how much further he had to go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d already been on the road for four hours and he had another two and a half to go before he reached the spot where Armin had last heard from Jean, and figured what the hell? He could stand to check in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner pulled up Bertholdt’s number and hit send, the music dying down and the sound of a phone ringing blasting through the speakers instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love?” Bertholdt answered, his voice anxious, “Did you find him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Reiner said back, unable to help the little smile on his face that always came out whenever Bertholdt spoke. “I’m not there yet, I just missed you is all. How’s it going there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bertholdt murmured something to someone on the other end of the line, and Reiner could hear him getting up to go outside. Still with Armin, then. “Not good.” Bertholdt said quietly once the door was shut. “We went to talk to the cops today, and… they’re not gonna help us. Armin isn’t taking it well.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t figure he is.” Reiner said, knowing that if it were them, he’d be going crazy by now. “But what’s the plan?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Avery is on the phone with Marie right now and I’m just sitting with Armin.” Bertholdt replied, pausing for a moment and taking a breath before continuing, his voice worried and stressed out to the point that Reiner wished that he was there to talk some sense into everyone. “He’s about to have a panic attack, Rei. He wants out of here so bad, he wants to get on the road, but I don’t know what to do. I think… we’ll probably end up coming tomorrow regardless of what happens. He can’t keep sitting here doing nothing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still, despite how awful he felt for Armin, he couldn’t help but smirk a little at the thought of getting to see Bertholdt. “Now you know I’m never gonna be upset to see you. I can go ahead and get a room booked somewhere tonight if you want?” He chuckled and lowered his voice some, using the sultry tone that always got under his finance’s skin. “I’ll make sure I’m ready for you when you get here…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Reiner!” Bertholdt yelped, his voice cracking a bit with surprise and what Reiner decided to say was want, and he figured he was blushing at him right then. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Reiner laughed, glad to know that, even in such tense moments, he could still get to him like that. “I just mean I’ll be ready to help look tomorrow!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bertholdt sighed on the other end of the line and both of them knew without a shadow of a doubt that Reiner was a liar. “I miss you already.” He confessed, and the sad tone of his voice made part of Reiner want to turn around and go back right then despite knowing he couldn’t. Jean and Armin were their best friends, and since nobody else was going to help them out, finding Jean rested solely on his shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I miss you too, Bertl.” Reiner admitted, letting out a long breath. “But just get through tonight and I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll end up seeing Jean too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hope.” Bertholdt sighed, falling silent for a moment, and Reiner could tell he was thinking hard about something. “I’m getting worried, Rei. Something is really wrong with this, do you feel it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I do. But we’re gonna find him. We </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to; Armin is counting on us.” Reiner said, taking a quick glance at the motels listed on the upcoming exit sign, and felt his frustration getting to him when there was no listing for anything even remotely similar to The Black Dog. “I’ve just got a couple more hours to go, then I’ll be there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Bertholdt murmured. “I really hope you find him, love.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will.” Reiner promised. “And, hey, tell Armin that it’s gonna be fine. I know Jean well enough to know that he wouldn’t just disappear like this. I know he wouldn’t.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tell him.” Bertholdt hummed, his voice soft like it always got when Reiner did something that he found sweet. “I love you so much, Rei. Bring him back. And you make sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>come back, too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it, okay? Don’t be surprised if I call you later saying I found him on the side of the road with a flat tire or something.” Reiner said confidently, hoping that it was the truth. “And I love you, too, you know?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. I better get back in there, though.” Bertholdt said. “Armin really doesn’t need to be on his own right now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Reiner hummed, the last thing he wanted was to let him go, but he knew as badly as he needed his fiance, Armin needed him that much more right then. “Go be a hero, okay? I’ll call you in awhile. I love you, Bert.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you too. But you’re the real hero here, love.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They hung up after that, and Reiner turned his music back up and pushed on the gas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was just getting dark up ahead when he saw the sign for the exit coming up. Reiner glanced at the clock in the car, and had to pause for a second when he read the numbers lit up green on his radio: 3:00. So why was it already getting dark? That had to be a mistake, right? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner slowed down some and glanced quickly at his phone, expecting to have it read that it was closer to dusk, but it said the same thing. What? He glanced between the two clocks and the sky once again, wondering how that was possible, and after a moment added up the time he’d been on the road in his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It came to the same thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked up at the sky again and thought that maybe it was so dark because it was going to rain, and had almost convinced himself of that until he got a little further down, and the night was every bit as clear as the day had been. Then he noticed the stars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner hit the brakes in shock, his car idling in the middle of the road as he took everything in with fear clear on his face, and shakily got out of the vehicle. There was nobody coming up behind him or in front of him, so he didn’t feel too bad about leaving it parked there for the moment, and just found himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>staring. </span>
  </em>
  <span>How was any of this possible? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was 3:00 in the afternoon, and it was almost dark. It was also the middle of summer and shouldn’t have even </span>
  <em>
    <span>hinted </span>
  </em>
  <span>at nighttime until at least eight o’clock. So what did this mean? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept his eyes on the sky for another few moments, confused and not at all knowing what to do, when a thought struck him. Hadn’t Jean mentioned to Armin that the stars </span>
  <em>
    <span>disappeared </span>
  </em>
  <span>the night he’d gotten close to the place? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner knew it had to be connected somehow. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be. With shaking hands, he opened the door and got back in the car, giving himself a few seconds to breathe before putting it back in drive and heading down the road, the stars above shining brighter and brighter as the seconds ticked by. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had to be getting close. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the last minute, he thought that maybe he should call home and let them all know what he’d found so far, and, quickly checking the time again, he unlocked his phone and dialed Bertholdt’s number, surprised to find that it went straight to voicemail. His fiance’s answering machine message came up, and after the beep, Reiner quickly launched into his explanation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love,” he started urgently, glancing up at the stars again, “it’s me. I’m close to where Jean was when he called Armin the first time. It, uh, it’s about three o’clock, and it’s… it’s dark, Bert. It’s like nighttime out here and I think - I think that means I’m getting close.” He paused, taking a breath, and swallowed in fear at what this might mean for him. “I just wanted to let you guys know. I’m gonna keep going and see what I find. I… I really love you, Bertl.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Reiner hung up after that and took another breath, his fingers gripping the wheel tight when he caught a glimpse of the moon rising in the sky. The road stretched out endlessly both in front of and behind him, and no matter how fast he went, it felt like he was driving on a treadmill. It felt like he was making little to no progress based on how far off the horizon was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He drove for a bit longer, not noticing until too late that his GPS lost his position and the arrow representing him sat frozen in place, and that the time now read 8:00. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What Reiner did notice, however, was a tall, red and blue neon sign getting closer and closer to him, and the head of a dog blinking back and forth as it hummed and glowed almost too bright in the pitch dark. Under the dog, written in bright red letters that made his blood run cold, that said: </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Black Dog Motel - next exit</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Vacancy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Welcome, Reiner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He slammed hard on the brakes when he saw it. The glow from the neon was so bright in the near complete dark that it hurt his eyes, and Reiner had to turn away from it after a few seconds before it started giving him a headache. His heart raced and his hands gripped tight to the wheel when it dawned on him that he really found it, and knew that he was that much close to finding Jean, hopefully alive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy fuck,” Reiner breathed, taking another look at it, like he was afraid that it would disappear if he didn’t confirm that it was still there. His eyes scanned over the words twice more as an unexplainable sliver of fear crept up his spine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re the only one looking for him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Reiner reminded himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you can’t let Armin down just because you’re afraid. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Swallowing, Reiner gave himself a few seconds to panic before he pulled himself together, and tapped around on his phone just to see if anything new came up, but wasn’t surprised to find that no, nothing did. What was going </span>
  <em>
    <span>on? </span>
  </em>
  <span>There had to be a reason for it, right? There always was, no matter what. Maybe it had a history of killings, or someone tried to cook meth in one of the rooms and got busted. Maybe they pulled all the pages about them to keep things from getting out. That had to be it, didn’t it?  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regardless if it was, that’s what Reiner told himself to make him less nervous about what he was going to be walking into. His grip on the wheel loosened just a tiny bit, and he bent forward, looking back out at the sign through his windshield and the hairs on his arms stood up when he realized something was </span>
  <em>
    <span>off. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At first glance, he thought that maybe one of the lights inside the red lettering had gone out, causing the color to deepen and change, but little by little, he looked all around and every bulb inside was burning just as bright as before. Not understanding, he kept his eyes on it and tried his best to make sense of what he was seeing, when he noticed something dripping from one of the letters. It hadn’t rained in awhile, he knew, given how dry the grass was on either side of the highway, and he couldn’t help himself from getting out to investigate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walked up to the pole and followed the sound of the drips, and took a step back when he realized. On the ground was a puddle, almost black in the night, but he knew what he was seeing: The smell of copper filled his nose and the thick sound of each drop falling into the pool was enough of a give away. Blood. Lots of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Terrified, Reiner looked up again and was horrified to see that the red inside the letters was sloshing around with the hums from the bulbs, and it was thickening up as the seconds ticked on and the light became deeper and deeper crimson.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not wanting to stick around any longer, he raced back to the car and threw himself into the driver’s seat, turning the key and reversing as fast as he could. He wanted to put as much distance between him and whatever was going on as was humanly possible, his friend all but forgotten about in his terror. Reiner glanced back in the rearview mirror and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the sign getting smaller and smaller as he raced away, and finally relaxed when he could no longer see it at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner drove until he saw the sign for the last town he’d driven by coming up, and knew immediately that he needed to go back there. Maybe someone there knew what was going on with all of this. He took the exit when he got there, but his stomach rolled when he just found himself on another stretch of long highway with no sight or sound of a town anywhere near him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he saw it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner let out a gasp and stomped on the brakes again, not wanting to get anywhere close to the sign as it came back into his focus. How was that possible? He’d been driving forever in the opposite direction. How had he looped back to this place? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His breathing became shallow and unsteady as he stared at it, afraid of what it all meant, and found himself wanting to go back home right then and there before something else happened. Armin’s face from that morning flashed through his mind, then, and a pang of guilt hit him hard in the chest at the thought of abandoning his friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled his phone out, then, and snapped a couple pictures of the sign, then pulled up his messages with Bertholdt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Found the sign for the motel. Going to find it soon.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He attached one of the images and sent it off before setting it back down on the seat. He gave himself to the count of ten before forcing himself to calm down, then headed off in the indicated direction, hoping he’d really find it and not just another loop. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>-- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner woke to the sound of the car hitting the rumble strip on the side of the highway and yelled, jerking the wheel and getting himself into the middle of the road before slamming his brakes and hoping nobody came up on him. He panted, his heart racing uncomfortably fast, and looked back to the tire marks on the road from where he’d swerved to avoid hitting the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God, he’d almost hit the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever fallen asleep at the wheel, no matter how tired he was, and tried his best to think back to when it had happened. It couldn’t have been too long, right? If it had, he would have surely crashed by then, but the last thing he could remember was taking his picture and pulling away from the sign. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Giving himself another few seconds to breathe, he looked around for something - </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>- to tell him he was getting close, that he could get out of the car and start looking for Jean on foot or take a few hours and get some rest that he obviously needed. Luckily for him, there were lights and a sign almost identical to the one he’d seen earlier coming a ways off from the right side of the highway, and he let his head fall forward and thump against the steering wheel in relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Reiner finally let himself relax when the sound of gravel crunching under the tires sounded in his ears and he knew he was going to be okay. As afraid as he was of what had happened, and the nerves he felt about actually being at this place, it was overshadowed by his exhaustion and want to be out of his vehicle for the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grabbed his bag out of the back seat and locked it up behind him before shakily setting his feet on solid ground. Reiner took a breath and took a scared look up at this sign, half expecting the sign to be dripping and getting darker, but it didn’t. It was the same siren-red color as it should have been. Satisfied with that, he headed inside to the reception desk, and almost dropped his things when he saw who was there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t get it!” Jean snapped at the man behind the counter, breathing hard and very obviously furious. “I’ve been stranded here for two days now and nobody is helping me! I don’t know what kind of game you people are trying to play with me, but I’m done with it! I’ll take my shit and leave on foot if I have to, because I have a husband waiting for me to come home, and I’m going there one way or another!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Kirstein,” the man replied, his voice bored as he kept his eyes on the book he was reading. “You just have to be a little patient. We’re understaffed right now, and I understand you want to go home, but please… We’re doing everything we can.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you really?!” Jean shouted, more upset than Reiner had ever seen him before in his life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bag slipped from his hand and his eyes went wide when he realized that Jean was okay, and felt his knees beginning to go out. His friend turned, the anger on his face melting away and quickly being replaced by surprise and confusion. “Reiner?” He asked. “How did you get here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was looking for your dumb ass.” Reiner replied, still not fully believing what he was seeing, shocked that he’d actually found him. “You’ve been missing for almost four days.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean looked back at the man at the desk and glared. “He’ll be staying with me, so don’t bother giving him a different room key.” He said, quickly walking up to Reiner and grabbing his bag before he could protest. “Come on, we need to talk.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Reiner just blinked, his mind catching up a moment too late, and raced after his friend who was already halfway across the parking lot. He quickly caught him, calling his name, a million questions running through his mind. “Jean, what--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold on.” Jean cut him off, looking around to see if anyone was around. “There’s a couch in my room you can sleep on. Trust me when I say you don’t want to be on your own here.” When they got to the room, Jean locked the door behind them and listened for a moment before finally relaxing. “How did you find me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I came up here because Armin asked me, man. You’ve been gone for almost four days now. Armin’s beside himself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean’s face fell completely when he heard that, and quietly went to sit on his bed. “I was worried about that.” He said. “I… God, I miss him.” He fell silent for a few moments, thinking about his husband, until he realized what else Reiner had said. “But what do you mean I’ve been here almost four days? I just got here last night.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jean,” Reiner started, “you went missing on Tuesday. It was Friday morning when I left.” To prove his point, he pulled out his phone and brought up the calendar app, but was surprised to find the date was now Wednesday. “What the fuck?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few seconds of thought, Reiner remembered the photos he’d taken just a little bit ago, and pulled up his messages with Bertholdt again. “Look at the date.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean took the phone and read over the date, his eyes widening when he realized that Reiner was telling the truth. “Shit.” He breathed. “But how is that - how is that </span>
  <em>
    <span>possible?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He asked, wishing Armin were there to figure it out. “I got here last night, Reiner, how can that happen?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dunno. Was hoping you had some more answers.” Reiner shrugged, sitting back on the couch and letting out a breath. “But I’m guessing it’s related to how it can be dark as midnight at three in the afternoon, and after seeing that fucking sign, it magically becomes eight at night.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean said nothing to that, thinking that he was lying for a split second before his own experience flashed through his mind. “There’s no way…” He said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is because it just happened to me.” Reiner replied, folding his arms across his chest as he began to think. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was quiet for long enough that it was making Jean anxious being alone with his thoughts, and finally, his friend had to break the silence. “You said it was three o’clock?” He asked. “Then you found the sign?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then I found the sign.” Reiner repeated. “And that’s not all, man. Armin said you told him that you were getting really tired that night, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I… I almost fell asleep at the wheel when I found this place.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m driving away from that fucking thing after sending the picture of it to Bert, get back on the road, and the next thing I fucking know, I’m about to hit the side wall on the highway. Thank god I hit the rumblestrip first; it woke me up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean let out a long breath and looked at Reiner’s phone again, curious to see the photo he’d snapped of the sign, but that curiosity was quickly replaced with dread when he realized something was missing. “You said you took a picture of the sign?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, why?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean took one more look before reaching out and handing Reiner his phone back. “Look.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Icy cold dread filled Reiner’s heart when he looked at the photo and realized that it was just a picture of the night sky, no neon, no pole, no </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>except the stars. “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He whispered, terrified out of his mind at what that meant. He backed out of his texts and opened his photos again, pulling the other one he’d taken that night up and feeling his hands beginning to shake when he saw the same thing in that one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes met Jean’s across the room and found the same worry and fear mirrored in his friend’s, and for whatever reason, that only made Reiner panic that much more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did anything else happen on your way here?” Jean asked, almost afraid to know the answer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reiner almost shook his head no when he remembered the fucking blood dripping onto the ground, and a shiver went down his spine just thinking about it. “Y-yeah, there was…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That fucking sign, man…” He murmured. “It - when I got up close to it, it fucking… god, it was dripping something from it - blood, I think.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean let out another long breath, his hands gripping his knees tightly, and swallowed. “If that’s true, then I think I have a pretty good idea of whose it was.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry this one is so short, y'all. things have been kind of crazy here lately in regards to irl stuff and my mental health. hopefully chapter 6 won't be as delayed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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